Shadow of the Wind

Finished a fantastic book this week!  It’s called The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz-Zafon.  I will say it had it all…mystery, intrigue, twists, and best of all the story centered around a book!  The story takes place in the city of Barcelona in 1945…

A city slowly heals from its war wounds, and Daniel, an antiquarian book dealer’s son who mourns the loss of his mother, finds solace in a mysterious book entitled The Shadow of the Wind, by one Julian Carax.  But when he sets out to find the author’s other works, he makes a shocking discovery: someone has been systematically destroying every copy of every book Carax has written.  In fact, Daniel may have the last of Carax’s books in existence.  Soon Daniel’s seemingly innocent quest opens a door into one of Barcelona’s darkest secrets…

I decided to finally pick this up because Ruiz-Zafon has come out with another book this month that picks up where The Shadow of the Wind leaves off.  It’s called The Prisoner of Heaven, and it has received some great reviews.  I thoroughly enjoyed Ruiz-Zafon’s use of words.  He was able to paint a picture of old Barcelona as if you were right there with him.  As usual, I have some great quotes I would like to share.  If you do read the book, let me know what you think…


Pg. 8
“Once, in my father’s bookshop, I heard a regular customer say that few things leave a deeper mark on a reader than the first book that finds its way into his heart.  Those first images, the echo of words we think we have left behind, accompany us throughout our lives and sculpt a palace in our memory to which, sooner or later–no matter how many books we read, how many worlds we discover, or how much we learn or forget–we will return.”

Pg. 27
“Never before had I felt trapped, suduced, and caught up in a story,’ Clara explained, ‘the way I did with that book.  Until then, reading was just a duty, a sort of fine one had to pay teachers and tutors without quite knowing why.  I had never known the pleasure of reading, of exploring the recesses of the soul, of letting myself be carried away by imagination, beauty, and the mystery of fiction and language.  For me all those things were born with that novel.’ “

Pg. 484
“Bea says that the art of reading is slowly dying, that it’s an intimate ritual, that a book is a mirror that offers us only what we already carry inside us, that when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind, and great readers are becoming more scarce by the day.”

“He used to say that we exist so long as someone remembers us.”—Nuria Monfort

 

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